


Professional Attachment (or 5 times Elizabeth didn't have it)

by Oparu



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-03
Updated: 2010-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times fic with Beverly Crusher and Elizabeth Weir in the Atlantis 'verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professional Attachment (or 5 times Elizabeth didn't have it)

I.

"Doctor Weir?"

Elizabeth paused, polite female voices seeking her attention were rare on Atlantis. Usually impolite male voices demanded she sign off on things.

She stopped, trying to place the voice in her mind while she turned. The tall redhead had her hands in the pockets of her labcoat, which for some reason was blue.

"Yes?" Elizabeth asked politely, at a loss for a name.

"The Enterprise's is done transferring medical supplies, but I need your signature " the redhead explained, handing over a tablet pc. "Colonel Picard should contact you shortly."

Colonel Picard, Elizabeth remembered. Thanks to the IOA the Enterprise had a more international crew, and somehow a French colonel had a British accent. He had been quite polite, much more genial than Caldwell had been. Sheppard had already joked about losing one's hair being the prerequisite for command of a ship.

This doctor sounded American, but she didn't bother asking. The patch on her sleeve gave her away.

"Thank you doctor-" Elizabeth let the word hang and the doctor took the bait.

"Beverly Crusher," she responded with a smile. "I'm the Enterprise's head physician and, since Carson will be putting that ship in order, I suppose you'll be seeing a lot of me."

"Oh?" Elizabeth couldn't remember reading that. Maybe it was still on her desk.

"It's an exchange," Doctor Crusher explained, pointing towards Elizabeth's office as she fell into step with her. "Carson will mind the Enterprise while she runs to Earth, I will be in charge of your infirmary. He says you work too much."

Elizabeth nodded, smiling ruefully. "He started with that?"

"Someone called 'McKay' will be rude to me," Crusher thought. "Sheppard will hit on me and he's the most likely to get shot. If I'm lucky, I'll go on a mission with Lorne's team, because they're the most organized. Though, I shouldn't tell Sheppard, he'll be upset."

Elizabeth shook her head, biting back a laugh and pointed at the chair across from her desk. "Welcome to Atlantis."  


* * *

 

II.

"Stitches," Beverly repeated, shaking her head at her leader. "You know, silk or nylon threads that hold your skin together while it tries to heal the mess you've made of it." She turned her glare on Elizabeth, who's smile slipped through sheepish into amused.

"John let me get shot at," she pointed out.

Sheppard shrugged, arms still crossed over his chest. His hands were bloody, he'd been the one holding the cloth against Elizabeth's arm until they got her to the infirmary. "You didn't stay behind me. If you don't listen, I can't protect you."

Beverly knew that tone and that underneath it, Sheppard was confident that this would never happen again. He was a saviour, like Jean-Luc. The kind of leader that never let anyone stay behind. He was bothered by Elizabeth's injuries and that was why he wasn't leaving.

Carefully peeling the cloth from Elizabeth's wound, a neat furrow from a flint arrowhead in Elizabeth's smooth skin, Beverly shook her head. "I think you should stay behind him in the future. Though I can heal this, and I'm so good with a needle you probably won't even have a scar, you did ruin your jacket and the IOA does watch our budget very closely. They'll probably won't even let you have a new one."

"See," John pointed at Elizabeth's bloody black jacket on the floor. "You should listen to me. I save laundry."

"Thank you, Colonel Sheppard," Beverly offered as she pointed towards the door. "I will continue to chastise Doctor Weir in your absence."

"You will?" Elizabeth asked, pouting a little.

"You need to be glued," Beverly reminded her, breaking the capsule and mixing the bright purple glue. "You're also going to need stitches, several of them. Your arm is going to be sore for weeks while the muscle heals. You're also going to take antibiotics and they will taste bad."

Elizabeth leaned back, carefully leaving her arm where Beverly had placed it. Her skin was cool, pale and covered with freckles. The tiny spots were charming, even cute. Like the way she looked away when Beverly started stitching.

"How was the mission?" she asked cheerfully. "What did McKay do to make them start shooting?"

"Nothing," Elizabeth answered, giggling. "We walked through a burial ground. Someone stepped in the wrong place. Really poorly marked, if you ask me."

"There should be a huge sign with death symbols?" Beverly teased, neatly finishing the line of stitches. She eased the antibiotic ointment over the wound with one finger, then covered it with a bandage. "Skulls and crossed bones?"

"Something like that," Elizabeth agreed, daring to look at her arm then sighing in relief that it was covered. "How much glue is it going to take?"  
Beverly stopped painting it over the scratches on her forehead and shook the tube. "All of this, believe it or not. McKay, Sheppard, Ronin- all of them were easy. Teyla didn't even have a scratch on her, but you? You are going to take a whole tube of glue."

Elizabeth's smile had an impish air to it. "How much is the glue?"

"Terrible expensive," Beverly promised, smiling at her. "The budget of a small country."

"Really?"

"A very small country," she finished, then tucked Elizabeth's hair back behind her ears. "Possibly not even a real one."  


* * *

 

III.

John nudged her tray with his, getting her attention. "So?"

Elizabeth turned to him, utterly confused. "Hello John."

"You had dinner with her," he continued, voice barely above a whisper as he took two helpings of Jell-O, one red and one blue. "In your quarters."

"Doctor Crusher?"

His sceptical look suggested she shouldn't have even asked that question. "Rodney," John drawled, rolling his eyes. "Of course Beverly."

"It was nice," Elizabeth answered noncommittally.

John followed her to a table and dropped his tray directly across from hers. "And?"

"And what?" she asked helplessly. "I occasionally have social engagements that aren't of public importance."

"I've never had dinner in your quarters," he reminded her, tearing his bread and dunking it in his lasagna. "Neither has McKay, so he's jealous. Teyla thinks you might be lonely for educated companionship, which the doctor could provide, but Ronin, see, Ronin's the one who's convinced it's a date."

"A date?" Elizabeth reached quickly for her water; her cheeks were starting to burn.

"No rules for civilians. She's not really under your command. You do smile at her a lot," John paused and leaned closer. "I do like her hair, not that I, you know, pay attention to those things."

Her water glass was empty and she had to poke at her salad instead. "We just talk."

"Right," John said, trading his water for her empty one. "look, I just want you to know, no one's going to begrudge you, if you need to talk. Especially not if you need to talk to someone with those legs."

She glared at him over her new water glass.

"Yours are nice too," John finished with a grin. "Jell-O?"  


* * *

 

IV.

Elizabeth's hair slid around her fingers, letting her push it back from her neck. The exposed skin was warm and smooth; kissing it elicited a little sigh. Dinner collapsed quickly from polite conversation to more urgent needs. The pesto chicken lay forgotten on the plates between them and Elizabeth's neck tasted better than the wine.

"I don't-" Elizabeth murmured, running her hand down Beverly's stomach.

"Usually do this?" Beverly finished, tugging up Elizabeth's tight red t-shirt. "Kiss?"

"Kiss people I don't know very well," she said softly, keeping her giggle in the back of her throat.

"I'm forty-two." Beverly's hand found Elizabeth's breast and squeezed it, narrowing her grip to tease the nipple. "I've won every tap dance competition I've ever been in. I can't whistle. Warm milk helps me sleep. Je peux parler le français. And I'm a very good shot." She worked her way up to Elizabeth's chin, then kissed her properly. "Enough?"

Elizabeth's fingers quickly found her bra and unhooked it beneath her shirt. She shifted to straddle Beverly's crossed legs. Beverly grabbed her hip, helping her balance while she dragged her shirt over her head. Elizabeth's dark curls tumbled down on her bare shoulders. Beverly pushed them back, tangling her fingers in her hair.

Elizabeth nodded once, kissing her deeply. Beverly slipped her hands down Elizabeth's bare back, easing into the muscles as she went. Her thumbs circled Elizabeth's waist, running over her abdomen before she undid the catch of her trousers. Slipping the tiny piece of metal loose, she felt Elizabeth unbuttoning her own. Kissing grew more intense, Elizabeth's tongue came deeper into her mouth. They broke apart, tearing Beverly's shirt off together.

Elizabeth left her lap, slipping her trousers off her hips as she retreated towards the bed. Her grey panties stood out in soft contrast with her pale skin when she sat on the bed. Beverly insinuated herself between Elizabeth's knees, taking her time to slip off her trousers. With them gone, Beverly knelt in front of the her. Elizabeth gasped when she ran her hands up in the inside of her thighs.

One thumb ran across Elizabeth's panties, feeling the dampness of her seep into the cotton. Catching Elizabeth's panties at her hips, Beverly eased them off. She kissed her knee, then traced the curve of Elizabeth's calf. Caressing Elizabeth's legs, she parted her thighs and leaned inward.

Elizabeth's hands dug into her hair. Her sigh vibrated through her body as she released Beverly's head and lay back. Beverly smiled, then kissed her way in.  


* * *

 

V.  
Rodney paced outside Elizabeth's quarters. She never took more than few minutes to answer the door and his research was already delayed enough. He hit the alarm, then knocked with his fist against the her door. Finally, it hissed open.

Elizabeth's hair was mussed. Her lips were red and her eyes were bright. All she had on was a pale blue lab coat.

Rodney swallowed, then took a step back from the door, lifting his hand as if it was dirty. "Elizabeth," he paused, "I need you to sign--"

Hands caught Elizabeth's waist, circling it from behind. Delicate hands, with long, feminine fingers.

Rodney started to blush, blood rushing hot into his face.

"Sign quickly," the voice behind Elizabeth, Doctor Crusher, Rodney's mind supplied instantly.

Following Doctor Crusher's arm, he realised the shoulder behind it was nude, so was the part of her chest he could see behind Elizabeth. He stared for an eternity, shocked, then quickly shut his eyes.

"How dangerous is this?" Elizabeth asked, taking the computer from his hands.

"It's not," he protested. "Not at all, I just need you to allocate more of the servers to me. Like all of them, just for five minutes so I can run the hard reboot of the translation software. The Ancient database is so big that I--"

The computer was back in his hands.

"Goodnight Rodney," Elizabeth said.

"Good luck with your research," Crusher added.

Rodney's ears were hot. Elizabeth was naked. Doctor Crusher was _really_ naked. John was never going to believe him or worse, John was never going to let him live it down.


End file.
